Keith of the Border: A Tale of the Plains

by Randall Parrish

  The withdrawal of the sheriff merely stimulated Keith to greateractivity. It was clearly evident the fugitives were endeavoring withall rapidity possible to get beyond where the hand of law could reachthem--their trail striking directly across the plains into the barrensouthwest was proof of this purpose. Yet it was scarcely likely theywould proceed very far in that direction, as such a course would bringthem straight into the heart of the Indian country, into greater dangerthan that from which they fled. Keith felt no doubt that Hawley intendedmaking for Carson City, where he could securely hide the girl, and wherehe possessed friends to rally to his defence, even an influence over theofficers of the law. The one thing which puzzled him most was the man'sobject in attempting so desperate a venture. Did he know his prisonerwas Hope Waite? or did he still suppose he was running off with ChristieMaclaire? Could some rumor of Waite's appeal to the courts have reachedthe gambler, frightened him, and caused him to attempt this desperateeffort at escape? and did he bear Miss Maclaire with him, hoping thusto keep her safely concealed until he was better prepared to come outin open fight? If this was the actual state of affairs then it wouldaccount for much otherwise hard to explain. The actress would probablynot have been missed, or, at least, seriously sought after, until shefailed to appear at the theatre the following evening. This delaywould give the fugitives a start of twenty hours, or even more, andpractically assure their safety. Besides, in the light of Waite'sapplication to the sheriff for assistance, it was comparatively easyto conceive of a valid reason why Hawley should vanish, and desire,likewise, to take Miss Maclaire with him. But there was no apparentoccasion for his forcible abduction of Hope. Of course, he might havedone so from a suddenly aroused fit of anger at some discovery thegirl had made, yet everything pointed rather to a deliberate plan.Both horses and men were certainly waiting there under orders, Hawley'sadherents in charge, and every arrangement perfected in advance. Clearlyenough, the gambler had planned it all out before he ever went to theTrocadero--no doubt the completion of these final arrangements was whatdelayed his appearance at the hotel. If this was all true, then it musthave been Christie, and not Hope, he purposed bearing away with him, andthe latter was merely a victim of her masquerade.

  What would result when the man discovered his mistake? Such a discoverycould not be delayed long, although the girl was quick-witted, and wouldsurely realize that her personal safety depended upon keeping up thedeception to the last possible moment. Yet the discovery must finallyoccur, and there was no guessing what form Hawley's rage wouldassume when he found himself baffled, and all his plans for a fortuneoverturned. Keith fully realized Hope's peril, and his own helplessnessto serve her in this emergency was agony. As they hurried back to thetown, he briefly reviewed these conclusions with Waite and Fairbain, allalike agreeing there was nothing remaining for them to do except to takeup the trail. The fugitives had already gained too great an advantageto be overhauled, but they might be traced to whatever point they wereheading for. In spite of the start being so far to the west, Keith wasfirmly convinced that their destination would prove to be Carson City.

  Procuring horses at the corral, their forces augmented by twovolunteers--both men of experience--Keith, Waite, Fairbain, and Nebdeparted without delay, not even pausing to eat but taking the necessaryfood with them. The sun had barely risen when they took up the trail,Keith, and a man named Bristoe, slightly in advance, their keen eyesmarking every slight sign left for guidance across the bare plain. Itwas a comparatively easy trail to follow, leading directly into thesouthwest, the pony tracks cutting into the sod as though the recklessriders had bunched together, their horses trotting rapidly. Evidentlyno attempt had been made at concealment, and this served to convince thepursuers that Hawley still believed his captive to be Miss Maclaire, andthat her disappearance would not be suspected until after nightfall.In that case the trail could not be discovered before the followingmorning, and with such a start, pursuit would be useless. Tireless,steadily, scarcely speaking except upon the business in hand, thepursuers pressed forward at an easy trot, Keith, in spite of intenseanxiety, with the remembrance of old cavalry days to guide him,insisting upon sparing the horses as much as possible. This was to bea stern chase and a long one, and it was impossible to tell when theycould procure remounts. The constant swerving of the trail westwardseemed to shatter his earlier theory, and, brought him greateruneasiness. Finally he spoke of it to the old plainsman beside him.

  "What do you suppose those fellows are heading so far west for, Ben?They are taking a big risk of running into hostiles."

  "Oh, I don't know," returned the other gravely, lifting his eyes to thefar-off sky line. "I reckon from the news thet come in last night fromHays, thar ain't no Injuns a rangin' thet way jist now. They're tooblame busy out on the Arickaree. Maybe them fellers heerd the samestory, an' thet's what makes 'em so bold."

  "What story? I've heard nothing."

  "Why, it's like this, Cap," drawling out the words, "leastways, thet'show it come inter Sheridan; 'Sandy' Forsythe an' his outfit, mostlyplainsmen, started a while ago across Solomon River an' down BeaverCrick, headin' fer Fort Wallace. Over on the Arickaree, the whole damnedInjun outfit jumped 'em. From all I heerd, thar must a bin nighonto three thousan' o' the varmints, droppin' on 'em all at oncet,hell-bent-fer-election, with ol' Roman Nose a leadin' 'em. It was shorea good fight, fer the scouts got onto an island an' stopped the bucks.Two of the fellers got through to Wallace yist'day, an' a courierbrought the news in ter Hays. The Injuns had them boys cooped up tharfer eight days before them fellers got out, an' I reckon it'll be two orthree days more 'fore the nigger sogers they sent out ter help ever gitthar. So thar won't be no Injuns 'long this route we're travellin', ferthe whole kit an' caboodle are up thar yit after 'Sandy.'"

  "And you suppose Hawley knew about this?"

  "Why not, Cap? He was hangin' 'round till after ten o'clock las' night,an' it was all over town by then. 'Tain't likely he's got an outfit'long with him thet's lost any Injuns. I don't know whar they're bound,no mor'n you do, but I reckon they're reasonably sure they've got a clarroad."

  They pulled up on the banks of a small stream to water their horses, andate hastily. The trail led directly across, and with only the slightestpossible delay they forded the shallow water, and mounted the oppositebank. A hundred yards farther on, Bristoe reined up suddenly, pointingdown at the trail.

  "One hoss left the bunch here," he declared positively. Keith swunghimself out of the saddle, and bent over to study the tracks. Therewas no doubting the evidence--a single horse--the only one shod in thebunch--with a rider on its back, judging from the deep imprint ofthe hoofs, had swerved sharply to the left of the main body, headingdirectly into the southeast. The plainsman ran forward for a hundredyards to assure himself the man had not circled back; at that point theanimal had been spurred into a lope. Keith rejoined the others.

  "Must have been about daylight they reached here," he said, pickingup--his dangling rein, and looking into the questioning faces abouthim. "The fellow that rode out yonder alone was heading straight towardCarson City. He is going for fresh horses, I figure it, and will rejointhe bunch some place down on the Arkansas. The others intend to keepfarther west, where they won't be seen. What do you say, Ben?"

  "Thet's the way it looms up ter me, Cap; most likely 'twas the bosshimself."

  "Well, whoever it was, the girl is still with the others, and theirtrail is the easiest to follow. We'll keep after them."

  They pushed on hour after hour, as long as day-light lasted or theycould perceive the faintest trace to follow. Already half-convinced thathe knew the ultimate destination of the fugitives, Keith yet dare notventure on pressing forward during the night, thus possibly losingthe trail and being compelled to retrace their steps. It was better toproceed slow and sure. Besides, judging from the condition of their ownhorses, the pursued would be compelled to halt somewhere to rest theirstock also. Their trail even revealed the fact that they were alreadytravelling far less rap
idly than at first, although evidently makingevery effort to cover the greatest possible distance before stopping.Just as the dusk shut in close about them they rode down into the valleyof Shawnee Fork, and discovered signs of a recent camp at the edge ofthe stream. Here, apparently, judging from the camp-fire ashes, and thetrampled grass along the Fork, the party must have halted for severalhours. By lighting matches Keith and Bristoe discerned where some amongthem had laid down to sleep, and, through various signs, decided theymust have again departed some five or six hours previous, one of theirhorses limping as if lame. The tired pursuers went into camp at the samespot, but without venturing to light any fire, merely snatching a coldbite, and dropping off to sleep with heads pillowed upon their saddles.

  They were upon the trail again with the first dimness of the gray dawn,wading the waters of the Fork, and striking forth across the dull levelof brown prairie and white alkali toward the Arkansas. They saw nothingall day moving in that wide vista about them, but rode steadily,scarcely exchanging a word, determined, grim, never swerving a yard fromthe faint trail. The pursued were moving slower, hampered, no doubt, bytheir lame horse, but were still well in advance. Moreover, the strainof the saddle was already beginning to tell severely on Waite, weakenedsomewhat by years, and the pursuers were compelled to halt oftener onhis account. The end of the second day found them approaching the brokenland bordering the Arkansas valley, and just before nightfall theypicked up a lame horse, evidently discarded by the party ahead.

  By this time Keith had reached a definite decision as to his course. Ifthe fugitives received a fresh relay of horses down there somewhere, andcrossed the Arkansas, he felt positively sure as to their destination.But it would be useless pushing on after them in the present shapeof his party--their horses worn out, and Waite reeling giddily in thesaddle. If Hawley's outfit crossed the upper ford, toward which theywere evidently heading, and struck through the sand hills, then theywere making for the refuge of that lone cabin on Salt Fork. Should thisprove true, then it was probable the gambler had not even yet discoveredthe identity of Hope, for if he had, he would scarcely venture upontaking her there, knowing that Keith would naturally suspect the spot.But Keith would not be likely to personally take up the trail in searchfor Christie Maclaire. It must have been Hawley then who had left theparty and ridden east, and up to that time he had not found out hismistake. Yet if he brought out the fresh animals the chances were thatHope's identity would be revealed. Bristoe, who had turned aside toexamine the straying horse, came trotting up.

  "Belonged to their outfit all right, Cap," he reported, "carries thedouble cross brand and that shebang is upon the Smoky; saddle gallsstill bleeding."

  Waite was now suffering so acutely they were obliged to halt beforegaining sight of the river, finding, fortunately, a water-hole fed by aspring. As soon as the sick man could be made comfortable, Keith gaveto the others his conclusions, and listened to what they had to say.Bristoe favored clinging to the trail even though they must travelslowly, but Fairbain insisted that Waite must be taken to some townwhere he could be given necessary care. Keith finally decided thematter.

  "None can be more anxious to reach those fellows than I am," hedeclared, "but I know that country out south, and we'll never getthrough to the Salt Fork without fresh horses. Besides, as the doctorsays, we've got to take care of Waite. If we find things as I expectwe'll ride for Carson City, and re-outfit there. What's more, we won'tlose much time--it's a shorter ride from there to the cabin than fromhere."

  By morning the General was able to sit his saddle again, and leavinghim with Neb to follow slowly, the others spurred forward, discoveredan outlet through the bluff into the valley, and crossed the Santa FeTrail. It was not easy to discover where those in advance had passedthis point, but they found evidence of a late camp in a little grove ofcottonwoods beside the river. There were traces of two trails leading tothe spot, one being that of the same five horses they had been followingso long, the other not so easily read, as it had been traversed in bothdirections, the different hoof marks obliterating each other. Bristoe,creeping about on hands and knees, studied the signs with the eyes of anIndian.

  "You kin see the diff'rence yere whar the ground is soft, Cap," he said,pointing to some tracks plainer than the others. "This yere hoss had arider, but the rest of 'em was led; thet's why they've bungled up thertrail so. An' it wa'n't ther same bunch thet went back east what comefrom thar--see thet split hoof! thar ain't no split hoof p'inting therother way--but yere is the mark of the critter thet puts her foot downso fur outside thet we've been a trailin' from Sheridan, an' she'sp'inting east, an' being led. Now, let's see whar the bunch went fromyere with thet split hoof."

  This was not so easily accomplished owing to the nature of the ground,but at last the searchers stumbled onto tracks close in under the bank,and one of these revealed the split hoof.

  "That makes it clear, Ben," exclaimed Keith, decidedly, staring outacross the river at the white sandhills. "They have kept in the edge ofthe water, making for the ford, which is yonder at the bend. They areout in the sand desert by this time riding for the Salt Fork. Whoeverhe was, the fellow brought them five horses, and the five old ones weretaken east again on the trail. The girl is still with the party, andwe'll go into Carson City and reoutfit."

  Chapter XXXIV. Again at the Cabin